VIOLATED BY MONSTERS: THE SCARECROW FIELD – HANNAH WILDE

By karen t. brissette

Posted on September 26, 2018

Violated By Monsters: The Scarecrow Field by Hannah Wilde
0 Stars

this is a story about a girl who has sex with ten scarecrows. not in the ordinary way, where she’s done some self-reflection and realized that her personal sexual preferences skew towards men filled with straw and her dating life reflects this pattern thereafter.

no, this is a ~~girl~~ young woman who has sex with ten scarecrows in one night so a two hundred year old man doesn’t have to.

welcome to monsterporn.

here’s the setup, because backstory is what separates man booker winning monsterporn from run of the mill monsterporn.

it begins like a traditional new england ghost story:

Every small town has its legends, whether it’s alligators in the sewers or a headless horseman on the old bridge. Our little corner of the world is no exception.

and in this corner of the world, the local legend is old man morgan – a man who has been known as old man morgan, who has been an old man as long as anyone can remember. or at least, as long as mckenzie, a toned twenty-one-year old woman, can remember. which we know because she says: I’ve been hearing about Old Man Morgan for as long as I can remember… in other words, ‘for somewhat less than twenty-one years.’ not that long in the grand scheme of things, but she also says she remembers her grandfather telling stories about old man morgan, and in those stories, he was also old. so – clearly some supernatural shit going on here. we don’t know the nature of these stories, presumably they were just “that guy is old.”

anyway, so mckenzie lives next door to old man morgan, whose biiiiig spooooky deal seems to be that he rarely leaves his property, sits on the porch a lot, and has unkempt crops.

clearly there is something…elderly going on here.

so mckenzie is used to seeing old man morgan sitting on his front porch, being all ruminative and shit, but she’s seeing even more of him now that she’s had to walk to work every day, since her license was revoked due to a recent bout of speeding tickets.

what we know from these facts:

1) she is fast
2) she doesn’t follow the rules
3) she’s a 21 year old hottie and NO ONE will drive her to work?
4) she lives within walking distance to work which makes her kind of an asshole for driving there in the first place.

but back to old man morgan.

Now that I’ve been walking, however, I see him literally every evening. It’s kind of terrifying how familiar the two of us have gotten, sharing a distant nod and wave as I pass by his property every day and night.

oh, man – if you think THAT is too familiar, if you think THAT is terrifying, well, you’ve got some surprises in store for you tonight, girl.

And, of course, there’s also the scarecrows.

now we’re talking… because, mister perpetual geezer has a lot of scarecrows on his property. and he seems to be very involved with these scarecrows.

…his apparent addiction to both placing, and moving, various scarecrows about his property is more than a little odd. I’ve never personally seen him move the straw men himself, but they seem to end up anywhere and everywhere, sometimes out by the road and sometimes back near the porch, right next to Morgan’s rocking chair. There was one morning where I even awoke to find a scarecrow planted right on the edge of Old Man Morgan’s cornfield, looking directly into the window of my bedroom. I laughed it off, but I have to admit that I was more than a little unsettled by the strange discovery.

mckenzie gets it into her head that she’s going to get to the bottom of the great morgan mystery and one night after work she wanders on over.

The sun has just made it’s final exit as I saunter along the old country road towards home

if you thought i was calling that sentence out to make fun of its misplaced apostrophe, this must be your first monsterporn review. no, i am calling it out because apparently THIS IS THE END OF THE WORLD AND GOODBYE SUN FOREVER.

Second’s later, I begin to make my way up the driveway towards him.

“Hey!” I call out when I’m just a few yards away. I give the man a wave as I cautiously approach. “I’m McKenzie!”

The old man actually manages to crack a slight smile as I stop at the bottom of his porch steps. “John Morgan.” He tells me.“I don’t get a lot of visitors around here.”

“I know, I grew up next door.” I explain.

Old Man Morgan nods.“It took you twenty-one years to finally come over and say hello?”He laughs.“Come on up and have a seat with me, unless you’re in a hurry to get home.”

what we learn from this paragraph:

1) that – yeah, sometimes, even in a monsterporn, imma call out a misplaced apostrophe.

2) that her name is mckenzie, and i apologize for revealing that fact earlier without an omg spoilers warning

3) that his name is john morgan!!!

(somewhere, two people laugh)

4) they are reciprocal stalkers – she knows he doesn’t get a lot of visitors, he knows exactly how old she is. this is unusual for people who have only recently developed a “waving hello” relationship.
4a) it also establishes that she is of age for boning, which is another omg spoiler fact i prematurely ejaculated onto this review. apologies all around.

It becomes immediately clear that John may be mysterious, but he’s nowhere near the monster that everyone else tries to make him out to be. Sitting up here in the still of the night and looking out of the fields of corn, I’m shocked at how natural it all feels. This life seems to be one of ease and comfort, and I like it.

no one’s actually said he’s a monster, though. one of her co-workers at the diner said they thought he was a vampire, but since we know he sits on his front porch all day, her friend at the diner seems to not know how vampires work.

mckenzie’s “shock” over how “natural” it feels to, what – sit on a porch? is as bonkers as her ‘i have sat here for two minutes and have already drawn a conclusion about what this life is and how i feel about it.’

she proves herself to be a master of the small talk:

“You sit out here a lot.” I observe.

John nods. “I sure do, not a lot else for me to do after all this time.”

which provides her with the perfect opening to GET TO THE BOTTOM OF OLD MAN MORGAN’S DEAL!

(omg spoiler – later on, she will herself provide the perfect opening and others will get to her bottom and her deal)

but BEFORE ALL THAT, she comes right out and asks him how old he is and he makes her guess and go through all this blahblah that is keeping readers from their scarecrow porn and eventually he confesses he is “around” 200 years old, as far as he can remember, not blessed with eternal youth, but cursed with eternal life.

and then she asks about the scarecrows
and then he tells her about the scarecrows

to info dump so we can get to the scarecrow gangbang already (omg spoiler alert #4? #5? who’s keeping track?) once upon a time, back when he had a wife and a reasonable lifespan, “the devil stopped by.” naturally the devil was in the form of a woman, and she wanted to buy john morgan’s land.

and why? because apparently old man morgan’s property was maaaaagical, or in the extremely specific wording of the devil/old man morgan’s recollections of the devil:

She said it was some kind of supernatural place that she needed for some reason or another.

devil always did have a silver tongue.

so, she offered him “all the money I could ever ask for,” and morgan said NO, because he didn’t want to make a deal with the devil.

but this is the DEVIL after all, and the devil will fuck you with or without your consent, so for NOT making a deal with the devil, morgan is cursed: ”She told me that if I was so attached to the land then I could just stay here forever with nobody but the scarecrows to keep me company.”

translation: morgan would never age a day. his wife died, he lived on, “…stuck sitting here staring at these god damn scarecrows” year after year and yadda.

but, it’s still immortality, right? it’s not the worst deal. i’m holding the story to its own facts when it said he was “rarely” seen off his property, so clearly he can leave it. sure, immortality would get lonesome, but look – he’s lured a nubile girl to his porch, he can read all the books, wisdom-drenched mckenzie’s already proclaimed it to be a life of ease and comfort, what are you complaining about, old man morgan??

oh, you wish you had a way to get out of this curse?

because there IS a way to get out of this curse.

and it’s fucking bonkers.

brace yourself for monsterporn logic.

SO – the scarecrows on his property are… alive and… imbued…with a powerful, magical lust.

so what does that mean for old man morgan? well…

“The only way to release me from this endless drudgery is to have sex with each and every one of those scarecrows. The devil made it that way because she knew that I could never be with someone other than my wife, even if they are made of straw.”

that’s a rare kind of loyalty that can keep a man faithful hundreds of years after the death of his wife, and ironically, a loyalty that is preventing him from joining her in the afterlife, if you believe in that kind of thing. which i expect old man morgan does.

SO, after that bizarre, uncomfortable infodump, john goes to bed and mckenzie cuts through the corn to get home, not believing morgan’s account that the scarecrows are living, horny beings, not when she can save like two minutes by walking through the corn, right?

but she probably should have believed him, ‘cuz when she trips over a stalk and falls down, she is suddenly surrounded by a collection of ten scarecrows, all of them dressed to the nines in old fashioned farming attire.

no one said there would be math!

even worse than math,

I quickly realize that, to my horror, none of the scarecrows are propped up with the help of anything other than their own two legs and, scarier still, they seem to be swaying back and forth with some sort of supernatural life force. In other words, the scarecrows are walking on their own.

IN OTHER WORDS, maybe that’s what the old man was going on about with the living scarecrows and the curse and all. ya think?

she doesn’t think. not yet. but then,

The scarecrows simply stand, silent but at full attention. It’s only then that I notice what else is at full attention, their massive scarecrow cocks.

“Oh my god.”I gasp, the words falling limply from my lips.“John was telling the truth.”

the scarecrows standing and walking on their own, that could just be a coincidence, but the COCKS? now i believes the coot!

I now realize that the scarecrows are waiting for my cue, not with aggression but with patience.They’ve been here for years, decades even, yearning for someone to come along and release them from a curse of their own.The strangest thing about all of this, though, is that fact that these animated scarecrow bodies actually kind of turn me on.

but don’t worry, it’s not that mckenzie is crazy. she’s not turned on by the scarecrows, per se, but by the fact that they must be so god damn horny by now, forever waiting for someone to come along and provide them with that aching release.

by that reasoning, you would think there’d be any number of involuntarily celibate individuals she could have hooked up with long before resorting to scarecrows.

but not, i suppose, in this particular cornfield.

she begins to interview the straw-filled gents in a rather damningly leading line of questioning:

“What is it?”I stammer, looking up at the scarecrows as I sit up onto my knees.“Do you… want me?”

The scarecrows nod slightly, their eyes black and vacant.

“Do you want to all fuck me at the same time?”I coo, enjoying the tension.“Do you want to take me in every hole?”

they do not answer – they’re scarecrows after all, silly, and nobody likes a thirsty bitch.

so mckenzie takes the initiative, grabbing a scarecrow dong in each hand and going nuts, using the excuse that all monsterotica heroines fall back on, all wide-eyed with plausible deniability:

I’m too overwhelmingly horny to think, completely consumed by my arousal.

yeah, yeah, yeah.

Somewhere deep down inside, a voice is yelling for me to stop and think about what I’m doing, but it’s too faint and at this point I’m not really interested in listening.

does no still mean no when it’s your own no?

but back to the straw hogs.

back in 2013, when i reviewed Taken By the Scarecrow, i shared my feelings about straw in an erotic context. poky. ouchie. no one’s having any fun with that.

but mckenzie’s her own escalating sexual circus act: two handies becoming two handies and a blowie, becoming two handies and two simultaneous blowies and how is blood not being drawn?

she’s a generous lover, if nothing else, making sure everyone gets a little action, rotating, burning the candle at both ends, as it were.

Lost in a sea of frantic nymphomania, I take one of the scarecrow dicks and shove it down my throat as far as I can, gag reflex be damned. Somehow, I manage to loosen up enough to take the creature all the way into the depths of my neck, his entire length consumed as his balls hang on my chin and his abs press hard against my face.

what we have learned from these two sentences:

1) it seems like it is time once again to dust off the old throat v. neck lesson. think of it this way. it is a turtleneck, not a turtlethroat. you can’t deepneck someone.

2) it is hard enough for me to visualize what a penis made of straw looks like. but why do these scarecrows have balls and abs? BALLS AND ABS, PEOPLE!

anyway, banging commences. so much banging. so many “graceful slams.”

and then this:

I’m propelled backwards onto the other creatures shaft, back and forth between them like a good old-fashioned game of Cornhole.

apparently (and i had to look this up) this is the game of cornhole:

which means i have been playing it wrong my whole life.

then more bang bang bang, go the scarecrows, everyone taking turns for politeness, and mckenzie leans into feminist backsliding.

I submit to the monsters completely, satisfied with my position as a pretty young fuck toy for these strange, paranormal creatures as they take turns swapping in and out of my holes.

oh, mckenzie…

Moments later, though, another one of the strange beasts positions himself behind me, causing me to freeze up with apprehensive concern.

“You can’t be serious.”I gasp, looking back at the ambitious scarecrow.”Two at the same time?”
The scarecrow nods.

Never before had I even considered submitting myself to something so depraved, so dirty.

really, mckenzie? this is your line in the sand? you’ve just greenlit ten different scarecrows into your wonderland of a body, spreadeagled in a devil-cursed field, buggy cornhusks rucked up beneath you, soil in your crevices, and this is where you pause because dirty?

in any case, it’s a real short pause and then DUAL SHAFT INVASION!! just not orally this time.

then all ten of them stand in a circle over her and jerk off, covering her face and body with jizz.

and immediately, immediately, while she’s still trying to wipe the cornballery out of her eyes, they vanish, never to return.

which is either unforgivably rude or a huge relief, because that was gonna be some awkward pillow talk.

and then, AND THEN! the next day, john morgan dies, having had his curse lifted by proxy, i suppose but JEEZ LOUISE, i understand him being all ‘no homo, scarecrows’ because fucking a scarecrow is dumb, but how embarrassed must he be now in this afterlife with his wife to not have realized that someone else could have banged his scarecrows all this time.